The Other King
by westwerk
Summary: When Dave Karofsky tells his dad what happened at prom, he ends up telling more to him than he meant to, but receives a surprise. Spoilers for The Prom Queen episode if the rumors are true. Written before Rumours.
1. 1: The Crowning of Dave Karofsky

Disclaimer: I do not work for Fox or own any of the characters.

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**The Other King**

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Dave's hand shook as he came into the house at midnight on prom night. Dave knew his dad was still awake; he'd seen the light from the TV glowing in curtained window as he drove up the driveway, and, honestly, as he closed the kitchen door behind him, the thought of telling him what had happened at prom sort of scared him. He should be happy that he was Prom King, but… Kurt. He'd have to tell his dad he'd been Prom King… and then he'd have to tell him about Kurt being… Que- no, the other King.

He stepped up into the living room, clutching the crown with sweaty hands.

"Hey, David," Paul Karofsky said, looking up from the TV. He was holding a glass of water. "How was prom?"

"It was alright," Dave said as he leaned against the archway between the dining room and living room. "It was… you know. Prom." He gave a slight shrug.

Paul smiled, nodding. "Yeah. I went a couple times. I'm surprised you didn't stay out later, David. Did Santana get tired?"

Dave shook his head. "No, she was just sort of angry at me."

"About what?" Paul asked, his eyes growing concerned. He sat up some, leaning forward toward Dave.

"Well, she didn't get Prom Queen, but, um," Dave lifted the crown up and shrugged, twitching it offhandedly. He'd rather not go into why she was mad.

There was a pause and Dave looked up to see his dad staring at the crown, shocked. "You?" he said.

When Dave nodded, confirming it, a wide grin broke out on Paul's face. Then, he stood up to pat Dave on the shoulder and ask to hold it. It was just plastic, but, still, it was still a crown.

"God, David, you've really turned around this year, haven't you? Congratulations. I can't believe it. I'll have to tell your mom as soon as she wakes up in the morning." He studied the crown for a little bit longer, his eyes glowing and a grand smile on his face.

Dave realized his hand stopped shaking, thankful that his dad hadn't asked who the prom Queen was yet. He just seemed too happy that Dave was King to even consider the Queen, apparently.

"Thanks, Dad," Dave said. He couldn't help but smile, too. Even if he knew the poll had been rigged as Santana told him, he was still happy that he'd made his dad so happy. Actually, Dave was elated at the thought that he made his dad proud. He felt his chest loose all it's constriction he'd felt since Kurt's name had been called.

But, that was short lived.

"But, if Santana wasn't prom queen, who was?"

Dave's chest tightened up again and his smile faded. He looked to the side wearily.

"David?" Paul asked.

Dave shrunk even more into himself, refusing to look at his dad as he muttered, his voice cracking, "Kurt Hummel."

There was another pause. Dave stared straight at the TV screen, at the corner where it said "Mute." He couldn't say anything, either. He felt trapped standing there, his dad still holding the crown and Dave's tie a little too tight around his neck.

"Kurt?" Paul said finally. Dave swallowed. "You mean a boy was Prom Queen? I know he's a gay-" Dave hated how he said, 'a', "-but isn't that going a little too far?"

Dave hadn't seen Kurt's reaction. He'd been looking toward Santana then, who'd had a smirk on her face as if so sure she'd be Queen. All he could remember of Kurt was him striding forward out of the crowd to receive the crown and stand next to Dave in the hushed gym of McKinley. He seemed proud, maybe a little pissed, but mostly pious as he waved a little princess wave as the crown was placed atop his perfectly combed back hair. David had felt his mouth grow wet watching the boy beside him, being so confident about being called a Queen instead of King.

"He wasn't too offended," Dave said, still staring at the TV.

"You didn't have to dance with him, did you?" Paul asked.

"Kurt said we didn't have to," Dave said softly. "But we were sort of forced to. It wasn't bad. I mean, he seemed okay with it. He wasn't scared."

"How did you feel about that?"

Dave glanced at him. His dad wasn't angry, no, he was just confused. Dave shifted, his heart pounding. Right now. Just do it. Be honest with him. Do it.

"I..." his voice shook. Just get it over with. Kurt would be proud, wouldn't he? He would be honest. "I was okay with it. I'm not homophobic. I mean, I couldn't be."

Paul's eyes narrowed in more confusion. "What does that mean?"

"It was Santana's idea." Dave blurted out, shocking himself, but just so much was inside him. Too much. He couldn't help it. "She rigged the ballots to make sure Kurt and I won. Not because I bullied him, but… Kurt's gay. She was forcing me. She wanted me to come out and I ju-"

He'd gone too far. He should have stopped himself. He should have.

"Come out? David, what-"

"Please don't hate me," Dave said, his voice wavering too much and his eyes stinging too much. "P-please. I didn't want this, but I can't hel…"

Dave wiped his eyes fiercely, wishing the tears would stop. He wanted to run, but he couldn't move. He felt trapped within his body, within that space, and as his voice fell victim to his tears, he felt so alone. His dad was sure to throw him out. He'd admitted in Figgins office he'd once been homophobic. He'd said, 'the gays.' That didn't apply to his son.

"I'm… God damn it, Dad. I'm g-gay."

There it was. There. Right out in the open. Kurt would be happy.

But, he knew his dad wasn't. Even though Dave refused to look at his dad, he knew for a fact that his dad didn't like it. He didn't like it.

Dave jumped.

Strong arms wrapped around his shoulders.

And Dave felt even more lost than he'd ever been.

He couldn't understand it. He was supposed to be yelled at, told to take it back. He was supposed to be kicked out of the house, unaccepted by his dad. He wasn't supposed to be hugged.

"I don't hate you," Paul said without any sort of hesitation, patting Dave's shoulder softly, reassuringly. "Believe me, I could never hate you."

"But…"

Dave had no idea what to say. This couldn't be real.

"Dad, I kissed him," Dave said, his voice so weak and trembling. "And I want to do it again. How can you not hate me?"

Paul sighed and tightened his hold on Dave. "I think I knew. Why else would you have only picked on Kurt as harshly as you did and no one else?" He let go of his son and placed a hand on his forearm. "It's fine, David."

Dave ran his hand across his face, wanting the tears to just go away. There was no reason to cry. His dad had accepted him. Somehow.

Paul fingered the crown and smiled lightly. It seemed forced to David, but then he lifted it up and placed it on Dave's head.

Dave smiled tearfully as Paul straightened it slowly, as if it were a hat he wore to a Baseball game, then brought his hand down to pat Dave's shoulder.

"Thank you for telling me," he said, looking Dave straight in the eye. "I'm proud of you. Not just for being Prom King, but for being honest with me. We'll talk about this more in the morning, okay?"

Dave nodded, the smile still on his face. He turned slowly and shuffled to his room.

And as Dave was getting ready for bed, he dropped the crown onto his bedside table. He hesitated for a second before he reached under his bed for a shoebox.

Only two things rested in there. The caketopper and a picture. Dave reached over, grabbed the crown, and carefully placed the crown in, right over the bride and groom. It seemed to fit perfectly, just exactly where it meant to be. He tucked the box under his bed again just as footsteps sounded down the hallway.

"I love you, David."

All David could do now was smile.

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A/N: Question for anyone who reads this: Should I do more? I love writing Dave.


	2. 2: As Real As The Kiss

Disclaimer: I do not work for Fox or own the characters of Glee.

_**A side note**: Chapter 1 is both a one-shot and the introduction to a larger story. I just decided to expand it after the positive responses I got from it. Thanks for reading :)_

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**The Other King**

**2: As Real As The Kiss**

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Monday at school, there wasn't as much talk about Prom King and Queen as Dave had expected there would be. He'd been expecting people to call him out, make fun of him for having to dance with Kurt at the Prom, but the only remark he seemed to get the whole morning about that ordeal happened to be from someone Dave didn't even know. "How's your Queen, Karofsky?" he'd laughed.

"King, you mean, and he's not mine. I'm not gay like him." Dave said coldly, though his voice shook at the word gay.

His fist curled up, but he knew that Santana would get on him if he did anything to the kid. He was still a Bully Whip and if anything got out that he hurt someone, his image he'd been trying to fix with Santana would be shattered.

He needed to stop pretending, but he couldn't.

He walked it off, resisting the urge to push the guy or run to the cafeteria to get a slushie for him.

Dave guessed that once the hype of wondering who would be the King and Queen was over and done with, people didn't think about it. Or maybe they did talk but out of Dave's range. He wondered if Kurt had it any worse.

It took him until fourth period to realize Kurt was, in fact, having it much worse.

Halfway through class, after Dave asked to go to the bathroom, he found Kurt in the boys' bathroom, carefully washing his face.

Kurt looked up with a cool glance. "David."

Dave cringed at the remnants of a blue slushie coloring his face. It looked as if it had just happened as the ice slipped down his face and onto his gray sweater. Otherwise, Kurt still had his normal supreme air to him that did so many things to Dave. He had to force himself not to think about it. The fact that Kurt called him 'David' made that feeling more present.

"Who slushied you?" Dave asked because he wanted to say something, but that was the only thing he could think of to start a conversation with him. What he really wanted to do was tell Kurt he'd come out to his parents, but it didn't seem right to him to say that so quickly out of no where.

"A Neanderthal puckhead," Kurt said. "I don't know his name."

He looked up at the mirror and ran a wet paper towel across his face and underneath his eye, then tried to get it off his sweater. Dave could only imagine that Kurt was glad he wore something that probably wouldn't stain or something.

"I can see your day's been better than mine, though," he said when Dave didn't move or say anything.

"Yeah, well, I-" he stopped himself before he said anything stupid to offend him. He had to remember they were coming from the same place. They were the same, even if they were incredibly different.

"You what?" Kurt asked, seeming to be honestly curious.

"Nothing. I'm just… I'm an idiot."

Kurt smirked.

Dave felt a chill run through his body.

"I guess it's better not to know," Kurt said as he continued to try to get the slushie out of his shirt. "You're getting better with your impulses. I guess you really have changed. Some, at least."

He grinned and Dave shifted uncomfortably.

Dave looked up when Kurt spoke again. "I've been meaning to ask you, you know how I made you promise to help me start up PFLAG here?"

Dave sighed. He thought Kurt forgot about that, since a few weeks had gone by without him saying a word about it. Dave really didn't want anything to do with PFLAG, but if it helped him keep Kurt quiet, then he had to do it.

"I'm serious, David," he said softly, noticing Dave's reluctance. He threw the towel into the trash by the sink and took a step closer to Dave. Kurt's eyes looked red as if he'd been crying, but he wasn't sure if it was just because of the effort to get the blue dye off his face or what. "You need to be educated and this is a perfect chance to get others involved in accepting us, but I was thinking… It's sort of too late right now in the school year to start it fully. I was thinking maybe we could get together over the summer to work on it for next year."

Dave blinked, a spark lighting up. Spend time with Kurt over the summer? Maybe alone? His palms began to feel sweaty and his nerves shook his body. It took him a second to realize it was excitement.

"That sounds… okay, I guess," Dave said glancing behind him as he heard the bell ring to end class.

"Then I'll call you. I'll get your number from Finn's phone. Oh, and before I go, Blaine wants to help."

"Who?"

"My boyfriend."

The thought of spending time alone with Kurt was crushed in that one instant, vanished completely. Dave frowned and his eyebrows knitted, remembering the greasy haired boy who was too outspoken for his own good. He had guessed that kid was Kurt's boyfriend since they went to prom together, but that was the first time Kurt actually confirmed it to Dave. Not knowing for sure had been better, much better. Now he was sure that whenever he looked at Kurt he'd feel guilty for taking an eyeful out of someone else's boy.

Kurt left the boys' bathroom then, with a small, "'Bye," and left Dave standing there, slightly angry and confused, but most of all empty.

He forgot to tell Kurt something he meant to say to him, wanted to say to him before he dominated the conversation.

He wanted Kurt to know he'd come out to his parents. He wanted Kurt to be proud of him and now he still had the anticipation he had building up since Saturday night left. He wanted to run to him, but the thought of doing that as people were shuffling out of class stopped him.

He missed his chance, but at least his parents understood.

The day before, he'd caught his mom eyeing him when he stepped in the kitchen that morning.

Dave looked to the side, hoping with everything he had that she wouldn't say anything just yet. He could tell his dad had told her. She'd never looked at him that way before, with sadness and, to him, something he couldn't place, maybe confusion.

But, when she spoke, it wasn't what he'd expected at all.

"Are you going to church this morning?" she asked hesitantly. She always asked that on Sunday mornings. Sometimes he said no, and other times he said yes. Right now, though, the normality of the question confused him. How can something so ordinary now seem so strange to hear?

He didn't feel much like being in the car with his parents on the way there, anyway. It'd probably be completely silent, with him sitting uncomfortably in the back, staring out the window.

"Um, no," he said, standing awkwardly by the stove. He wasn't sure what to do. Get cereal and pretend he was distracted, or wait for her to say something more?

"You should come today, David," she said, standing from the kitchen table where she'd been looking through the paper as the bell to the drier rang. Her slight frame moved to the laundry room off to the side of the kitchen.

"Why?" he asked, eyebrows knitting.

She glanced up at him as she folded one of his polos. "We're going to lunch after. Paul and I thought, well, maybe we could talk about things then."

Dave felt his face grow warm and his heart skipped a beat. For some reason, he felt panic because his dad had told his mom. She knew for sure.

"T-talk?" he asked, his voice cracking from the… what was it? Fear? The possibility that the feeling was fear actually scared him more. He hated it.

She sent him a reassuring smile. "Yes. Don't worry about it, Dave. We're only trying to understand where you're coming from."

David could only nod, feeling himself shrinking even more into himself. He couldn't understand it. He couldn't figure out why there was a deep feeling within him that seemed as if he was being pushed slowly back even further into the closet. He was out, but just barely, as if he was waiting nervously by the door frame, and slowly being sucked in again.

"We'll leave for church in an hour," his mom said. "Catch."

She threw him a light blue Polo with black stripes. He caught it and then just stood in the middle of the kitchen for a while, staring down at the fabric. The color reminded him too much of Kurt's eyes; a glassy blue like… he didn't know. Like the ocean or something. He didn't do too well at making comparisons. But, he didn't want that particular shirt. He wanted some other color, maybe red or black.

Finally, though, he just decided to wear that one. It really didn't matter.

Just as he had predicted, the car ride was uncomfortable for him. His parents didn't speak a word as his mom drove to the church. The congregation, too, seemed to take forever. All Dave could think about was the lunch coming up. He didn't know what he could say to them, or if they'd ask him questions. He wondered if people would surround him and his family at tables close by. His palms became sweaty at the thought of talking to his parents about his sexuality right in the middle of people who had most likely just come from church like him. He shifted in the pew, letting out a breath at the thought.

No matter what, he was still nervous.

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"Could we get a booth someplace where we could speak privately?" Paul asked the host.

"Of course, sir," the host, who in Dave's opinion was an eight on the hotness scale he made up in his head, said before picking up three menus and leading them to a table in a corner far away from anybody. Dave visibly relaxed as he slid in across from his parents. His fear at congregation had been worthless. He had plenty of space to talk.

"Thank you," Paul said to the host as he turned to leave.

His parents looked through the menus, but Dave couldn't. The silence drove him insane. At least they weren't making a big deal out of it all. They were treating him normally. It only seemed to be him who was nervous.

Once they ordered, Paul finally looked at him and started the conversation Dave had been dreading all morning. He fidgeted, the nerves erupting in his chest.

"So, you like boys?" he asked, almost jokingly, but the seriousness of the question overwhelmed the humor.

"Unfortunately," Dave muttered, his jaw set. It was still nerve-wracking that they knew. He felt a small shock of surprise when his dad said that, even though he knew he was going to talk about it.

"Don't say that," his mom said, shaking her head. "It's not unfortunate."

"Shouldn't it be?"

Paul sighed and gave him that certain look that told him to listen. "Maybe I gave you the wrong impression in Principal Figgins' office a few weeks ago. Look, David…" he leaned forward into the table. "I didn't know that you were gay then. I mean, I wondered-

"You did?"

Paul glanced at his mom, who was watching Dave with concern, before turning back to Dave and giving him a short nod. "Yeah, I wondered. Remember when you said, 'Maybe he likes me?' I knew you were picking on Kurt and I thought that was a very strange thing to say, since I could tell that Kurt didn't make any of his complaints about you up. But, David, I've accepted you. I'll accept anything about you. I even accepted that you were bullying Kurt. Somehow I believed that my son was pushing another kid around. Why wouldn't I tolerate something like homosexuality when it's much less harmful than the bullying?"

Dave wasn't sure if that was rhetoric or not so he decided to stay silent. It still jarred him though, and he looked to the side again, feeling uncomfortable.

"I know I made a mistake, David, calling… them- that's not the right word and I'm sorry-'the gays.' It wasn't fair to you."

Dave could only nod. As he sat there, he felt as if this conversation was going on completely in his head. His dad wasn't supposed to be this accepting, this forgiving, of his son, who was just a big jock.

It was happening, though. He was thankful for it, but still so confused.

"We're going to treat you the same," his mom said, reaching out to teach his hands, which he only then realized were folded on the tables, completely tense. The gesture reminded him of Santana. At least it was his mother this time and he was more accepting of it. She patted his rigid hands twice. "This is still too new, isn't it?"

Dave nodded, biting his lip.

"Take your time. We'll be here."

He tried to speak. He wanted to say thanks or something. In spite of his brain telling him to say something, anything, nothing came from his vocal chords when he opened his mouth to speak. He struggled, strangled.

He wanted to believe them. But, something in his mind was stopping him. He struggled with the reality of it all, of the conversation.

But, he told himself again, it was real. His mother's touch was real and his father's words really came from him.

It was as real as The Kiss.

And as Dave stood left the bathroom to get his things from the classroom the next day after his conversation with Kurt, he wondered if talking to Kurt would be any different than his parents. He had much more experience than Dave's parents did with dealing with… everything there was.

Wait, was he relying on Kurt?

Well, he reasoned as he picked up his books from his desk, even if that was low, or at least felt low, at least he had someone to rely on. Yeah, he had his parents. But now, now he had Kurt. He wanted to help Dave come to terms. He should at least be grateful.

As he left the classroom, he thought about PFLAG and the pain of nervousness spread throughout his chest. He had to help with it or Kurt would tell everyone, but he knew that that participating in that club was bound to out him.

And the last thing he wanted was to be completely out.

That thought terrified him.

He couldn't let the school know about anything.

Not yet.

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_A/N: Edit: I decided to remove a part in the church scene when someone said it wasn't right, so if it seems to have an abrupt ending in that section, it's because I was trying to avoid making people's heads spin. _

_Thanks for all your feedback on the last chapter from the people who commented and favorited and everything! I was so shocked by the positive response and I loved reading them._

_What did you think of this chapter?_


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